


Beautiful Sin

by sunshinetina



Category: Football RPF
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Religious, Footy Ficathon, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, The Ache in Your Legs Footy Ficathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:17:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3811942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinetina/pseuds/sunshinetina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'How do you even exist... Why can’t I get rid of you...'<br/>[or... Priest!Boateng meets Satan!Lewandowski that he can't get rid of, no matter what.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Sin

**Author's Note:**

> I adore Boadowski and am always up to writing about them. I mean, just look at those two: https://41.media.tumblr.com/59593d6dfd4ec546570db59fc10ad875/tumblr_nn6eu9cvnt1tab2dmo2_500.png  
> *loving sigh*
> 
> So, yep, I saw this great prompt in the Footy Ficathon (http://thorodinscn.livejournal.com/818.html?thread=19250#t19250) and did sth ugh (forgive meh) but, nevertheless, wrote it. :))
> 
> P.S. Comments are super encouraged and super appreciated! :) xx

He’s something else.

 

Maybe it’s the bluest eyes he has ever seen ( _they remind him of God’s Heavens and that’s so ironic_ ), maybe it’s the lazy left one which is half-closed when he looks at him ( _and when he is moaning like an angel’s music – yet another irony_ ). No, it’s probably the tiny scar on his right cheek, right next to his lips ( _so imperfectly perfect_ ), or his shy smile ( _making flowers grow in the Garden of Eden_ ).

 

Jérôme closes his eyes and is afraid to even think of Robert’s body but-... But yet, here they are. He is throbbing inside Robert and Robert is smirking and Jérôme wants more, wants so much more, it’s never enough. It’s never enough when he traces his tanned fingers all over those abs, the smooth skin, the scars, over the God-marbled statue under him...

 

 _You are the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen_ , whispers Jérôme while digging his fingertips in the skin around Robert’s navel. Robert’s smirk widens and he lifts himself up, aligning their foreheads. His breath is a ghost on Jérôme’s moistened lips. Jérôme lets out a nervous chuckle when his brown eyes meet Robert’s ~~heavenly~~ blue ones, _How do you even exist... Why can’t I get rid of you..._

Jérôme is on the verge of breaking down but then Robert moves and Jérôme throbs once again inside him. Robert leans down and bites Jérôme’s shoulder, leaving a reddish mark on the tanned flesh, then kisses it several times. Moves again and Jérôme can’t hold it anymore, he is shaking and unable to breathe, and-... Groans and prays, and prays and groans, and doesn’t know what to do anymore. And Robert – his beautiful sin, his _only_ sin – grabs his face and kisses him with all his demonly force, swallowing both their moans for what seems like eternity.

 

 _What have you done to me..._ lingers in the air while Robert is buttoning his pants and shirt up. He glances back at the bed and Jérôme sees something reserved just for him – all Robert’s walls crashing down, right there. Robert smiles shyly and crawls on top of Jérôme, pecking his lips.

 

 _At least, your God has done me some good._ Robert bites Jérôme’s lower lip and Jérôme’s hands can’t help but roam under Robert’s black shirt, _He gave you to me._

_Have you prayed?_

Robert chuckles and smooches Jérôme’s neck, _I might have said a word or two, in this church of yours. I am his fallen angel after all, still a soft spot._

Jérôme groans and throws his head backwards once Robert starts sucking on his Adam apple. His bluest eyes sparkle under the feeble moonlight as he suddenly springs up, winks, and leaves.

 

Jérôme closes his eyes and bites his lips, tasting the blood left from Robert’s teeth. He buries his head in the pillow and spends yet another sleepless night, just to wake himself up with a prayer. To his God – to _anyone_ who cares to listen up there – whispering and whispering the words, trying to free himself. But in vain. All it takes is one look, one smile, one touch, one breathless _Jérôme_ , and he is reaching the Heaven he has always dreamed of. At night his prayers are different, though. Crashing down the day ones. There is no _Amen_ in the end.

 

 _Robert..._ Jérôme moans and sees the stars amongst the flames in Robert’s eyes.

 

(That’s his _Amen_.)


End file.
